


Tell A Story On Purpose

by Sevidri



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: And Good At Their Jobs, Extremis (Marvel), F/F, Multi, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Remix, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-06 12:51:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18851431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevidri/pseuds/Sevidri
Summary: In the fallout of the release of SHIELD's file, Pepper is unfortunately more implicated than a civilian should be.Or, a story of how Pepper deals with having Extremis once the whole world finds out about it





	Tell A Story On Purpose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [semperfiona](https://archiveofourown.org/users/semperfiona/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Probably Not On Purpose [podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13742472) by [semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/semperfiona/pseuds/semperfiona_podfic). 
  * Inspired by [I Have No Spy Stories to Tell (podfic)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17265263) by [semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/semperfiona/pseuds/semperfiona_podfic). 



> Dear semperfiona,
> 
> thank you for creating these awesome podfics and letting me smash them together and remix them! I hope you enjoy the result! 
> 
> Lots of thanks to frecklebombfic for beta-reading and also at the mods for running this awesome exchange!

It doesn't happen immediately after the classified SHIELD files are splashed all over the internet. No, for the first few hours everyone is too shocked by the news of a secret enemy force within their midst, too concerned with finding out just how deep the corruption among their intelligence agencies — among their government — runs, to pay attention to the slightly less scandalous secrets.

When someone finally gets around to reading the reports on Dr Hansen's research, the drop in Stark Industries stock is in the double digits.

In truth, the discovery that the company is in possession of the early stage of the potential medical breakthrough of the century should be good news for the stock projections. And it would be, had the leaked files not also included a list of the people currently afflicted with Extremis.

In spite of all the positive publicity people with superpowers had gotten over the course of the last few months, the possibility of the CEO of a fortune 500 company literally exploding in a fit of rage is too much to take. 

“This is nonsense. I can assure you that I have it completely under control,” Pepper says, her voice the perfect balance between calm and controlled that has gotten her through many press conferences.

A wisp of smoke rises up somewhere to her left. When she pulls away from her desk she leaves behind a charcoal outline of her fingers. Her hand is still glowing ominously, and even though the damage is done, she hides her clenched fist in her lap.

“Ms Potts,” Collins, the head of PR starts. “We understand that this— condition— ” He’s choosing his words carefully. Calling it an illness or a disability could open them up to potential lawsuits. Calling it a power would frame it as something positive and therefore not worthy of reproach. Condition is nice and neutral. In times like these, Pepper hates that her employees are good at their jobs. 

“—Is not particularly well researched. There isn’t a precedent for a case like this, but you have to admit that there are certain—” he breaks off again, pointedly looking at the still smoldering handprint “—safety concerns. Surely you must see that.” He sounds placating, like Pepper is an unruly child that that he’s trying to reason with. It’s far from the first time she’s had to put up with one of her own employees patronizing her, but it rankles far worse than usual.

It’s not fair, is the thing. Pepper has spent years, over a decade, watching Tony stumble from one PR disaster into the next, from drunken frat parties to penthouse orgies and beach indecencies, to insulting politicians and ditching ceremonies and making a general nuisance of himself in public. None of that had ever affected the company’s stock, because their products had done all the talking for them.

There isn’t anything about her past in the leaked files, nothing incriminating, because she’d never allowed herself the risk, always kept one eye on her career, on her respectability, even if it was complete and utter bullshit. The only scandalous thing she’d ever done was date Tony, and that was after she’d already become CEO of Stark Industries. 

And now someone is trying to take her life’s achievements away from her, all her hard work, all her sacrifices, erased by something that had been done to her, that she’d had no control over. 

She feels another flare of heat well up in her chest and she tries to tamp down on it before the tell-tale glow of it reaches any visible skin. Judging from the shocked gasp of one of the assistants and the way all eyes in the room zeroed in on the neckline of her expensive business suit, she doesn’t succeed.

Time to go on the offensive then. “Prove it,” she challenges, and her voice is no less controlled than before but this time there’s a swift undercurrent of ice. 

The assembled group gapes at her. “Beg your pardon?” Collins says, obviously taken aback. Pepper can’t fathom why he would have expected her to back down that easily. He’s worked here for over two years now and he should know her better.

“You’re accusing my position in this company, my very existence, of being a safety concern, but it’s all conjecture. You have no proof.” She leans back in her chair and folds her arms across her chest. Wide eyes flicker from her face down to the scorch mark in front of her, and back.

“Ms Potts,” Collins tries again. It’s the same placating tone, but now there’s a hint of irritation, a bit of wariness. Good. “You can’t possibly be suggesting that your condition poses no risk.”

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.” 

“Are you serious?” one of the assistants bursts out. He hasn’t been here for long, maybe a month or two, but he’s wearing a suit too expensive for his salary and a tie too broad for his neck like he expects to climb up the career ladder in no time. Pepper knows the type, would have even if he hadn’t spoken out of turn, with none of the careful hedging Collins is so well-versed in. “You burned a hole in the table just now! This isn’t safe! I’ve read the files, you’re a walking time bomb! You could burn down this whole building in a temper tantrum.”

Pepper narrows her eyes and slowly unfolds her legs before gracefully rising to her feet. She takes great delight in the fact that her heels put her a good two inches above even the tallest of the men standing in front of her. She’s too good to let any of the giddy excitement show on her face. Collins is less good at hiding his pained expression, clearly regretting his decision to bring his assistants as backup to this meeting. 

“I am the CEO of this company. I do not—” she pauses briefly for effect, “—have temper tantrums. And I don’t tolerate this level of unprofessionalism in my employees.”

The assistant is stuck somewhere between cowering and gaping like a fish. He closes his mouth, then opens it again to say something, but Collins cuts him off before he has the chance. “Ms Potts,” he says, for the third time, and Pepper is getting tired of the sound of her own name in that voice. “I’m sure my assistant meant no offense, but you have to admit that there are valid reasons for— concern.”

Pepper gives the assembled group a cold look. “It seems none of you have actually read the files about my...condition. I am not a ‘walking time bomb’ as you so charmingly put it. I am exactly as capable as I was before. The only difference is that I now have some new abilities and the last time I checked there wasn’t anything in our company bylaws that forbid metahumans from working here.”

“Ms Potts,” Collins says again, admonishing this time, and Pepper has heard enough. 

“If that is all, I have actual work to do. This company doesn’t run itself after all.” For a moment it looks like Collins wants to argue, but being good at his job unfortunately includes knowing when a temporary retreat would be the best course of action. 

“Of course. Please excuse the interruption, Ms Potts.” He waits for another second, giving her a chance to return the usual niceties about how it was no trouble at all. She doesn’t.

Pepper waits for ten more seconds after the door to her office closes behind the PR delegation, then she breathes out a deep sigh. The heat is still thrumming inside of her, licking at her bones, trying to crawl along her spine and spread all over her whole body. She hadn’t lied exactly, she isn’t out of control, not really. Not enough to blow up at any rate, but her control isn’t perfect and she can’t afford even the smallest mistake now that she’s thrown the gauntlet. 

What she needs is more information, someone who knows how to deal with this kind of situation, but in a shocking turn of events Stark Industries doesn’t have any experts on superpowers on staff. Not that such a person even exists, the closest would be— 

She picks up her phone and presses the number for her personal assistant. It doesn’t even ring once before her call is answered. “Hi, I’d like you to send a message to HR for me. They’re going to extend a job offer to someone, as soon as possible. I’ll give you her contact information.”

————— 

Of all the places Maria had thought she might end up after the fall of SHIELD, a fancy HR office at Stark Industries had not been on her list. The door behind her is glass, not even bulletproof glass, and it takes a lot for her to not angle her chair in a more easily defensible position. This is nothing like the strict military structures she’s used to. The whole space is bright and inviting, with light coloured walls and potted plants in every corner.

Maria doesn’t belong here. She’s used to working underground, in bomb shelters, on untraceable aircrafts and submarines, not in a fancy Manhattan office. 

“Ms Hill,” — And, god, it’s weird to have anyone call her that. Still, she’s not an agent anymore, and it is technically accurate so she tries not to wince — “thank you for coming in on such short notice.” Maria straightens her dark blue business suit and breaks out her best civilian smile.

“My pleasure.” It must be good enough because the woman who takes a seat on the other side of the desk smiles back. 

“As we discussed over email, we have a position we would like to offer you.” Maria had read the email five times before she’d even started coming up with a reply. Even after agreeing to the interview, she’d almost called and cancelled it twice.

“To be honest, I was quite surprised when you contacted me. I haven’t worked for a private contractor before.” It’s the truth, even if it isn’t even half of it. Maria hasn’t ever had a job that hadn’t required her to carry a gun. 

“Ms Potts personally requested you. She values your expertise and was very pleased that you agreed to meet with us.” It’s a habit to hide her surprise, even though she probably doesn’t need to do it here. Maria had never met the famed Pepper Potts, but Phil had always sung her praises. 

“What sort of expertise are you looking for? The email wasn’t very specific.” _Security consultation_ had been the official description, but with a company like Stark Industries that could mean anything. 

“Ah, I’m afraid the information we’ve given you has been a bit misleading. Stark Industries isn’t the one in need of your expertise.” The recruiter gets up and looks at Maria with an apologetic smile. Maria’s hand twitches to the hem of her skirt. She’d had to turn in her gun at the security checkpoint but there’s a thin knife strapped to her thigh, ceramic so it wouldn’t show up on the metal detectors.

If this is an ambush, she’s not defenseless. If this is Hydra— 

“Ms Potts wishes to hire you as her personal consultant. If you would be so kind as to follow me?” It takes three breaths for Maria to relax enough to smile back. 

“Of course. Lead the way.” Her hand is never more than four inches away from the edge of her skirt all the way through the elevator ride to the penthouse.

———— 

“Ms Hill, it’s an honor to finally meet you. Phil speaks very highly of you.” Pepper Potts is every bit as stunning in person as in her various media appearances. Her outfit somehow manages to be elegant, fashionable, and flattering while also being modest enough to be clearly professional. Everything about her face is inviting, but the way she grasps Maria’s hand carries authority with no pretense that she is anything other than in charge. Maria instantly likes her.

“Likewise. He always liked working with you.” Pepper gives her a conspiratorial smile, a glint in her green eyes that makes the corners of Maria’s mouth twitch upwards without her consent. Idly she wonders if she’s being played. She’s more than used to people having agendas, but the thing she’s always hated about the business world is how everyone pretends they don’t. Spy work seems far more honest.

“Not so much with Tony, I imagine,” she says, sitting back down behind her desk. When Maria doesn’t reply, her face gets serious, her back straightening. “I have a proposition for you.”

Straight to business. Maria can appreciate that. “I’m not quite sure what I can do for you,” she admits. Honesty can be a surprisingly powerful tool when trying to figure out someone else’s agenda. 

Pepper nods as if she had expected that and gestures to the chair opposite hers. “I’m not looking to give you an office job, if that’s what you’re worried about. I need someone who has some experience with… abilities.” 

That catches Maria’s attention. “Abilities?” 

Pepper nods. “The kind SHIELD has been monitoring.” 

There’s no point in denying it. Even if Pepper hadn’t already known about SHIELD’s work through her connection to Tony, the release of the classified files erased the last bit of plausible deniability. 

“I see. Whose abilities are we talking about, exactly?” She has her suspicions of course, has been following the news closely enough to hear about the chaos in Stark Industries’ management, but it’s still a shock when Pepper raises her hands.

“Mine,” she says, and she’s still smiling, but there’s an edge to it, something hard and sharp. She turns her hands over, staring at her unmarked skin as if she expects flames to shoot out of her fingers at any second. “My board of directors isn’t convinced I won’t blow us all to kingdom come by accident. I want you to do a threat assessment.”

“Of you?” Maria asks, even though it’s obvious. 

Pepper nods. “Yes. I need you to tell me all the ways in which it is a terrible idea for me to remain CEO of Stark Industries and then I need you to help me fix them. Do you think you can do that?” She’s not smiling now, just looking straight into Maria’s eyes, a clear challenge. For the first time today Maria feels fully in her element.

It’s a ludicrous task, basically impossible with the little knowledge available to her, and it sounds exactly like a mission Fury might have given her. “When do you want me to start?” The surprise on Pepper’s face feels like a victory, even if she catches herself fairly quickly, going back to her pleasant but firm business personality in a matter of seconds. 

“As soon as possible. Let’s talk about your fee.”

————— 

Threat analysis is one of the areas Maria excels in. She’d been in charge of supervising the research on the tesseract, helped coordinate the search for Loki, and ran support from the helicarrier during the battle against the Chitauri. The first thing she needs is information.

The entirety of Dr Hansen’s research is easily available and Pepper provides her with what could be salvaged from AIM, but it’s far from enough. There are too many gaps, too many inconsistencies. Even AIM hadn’t really known how Extremis worked, only that it sometimes did, and that the cases when it didn’t, ended in a fiery explosion. 

There’s no indication as to what causes either reaction, and though it is deeply unsettling, Maria has to discard that line of inquiry. Clearly it had worked on Pepper, so only successful cases are relevant to her mission. 

Unfortunately Pepper also seems to be the only successful case of Extremis application still alive, so she mostly has to rely on old reports and video footage to get other data.

“Any progress?” Pepper asks when they reconvene three days later. 

“Some,” Maria replies curtly and takes a moment to enjoy the surprise flickering across Pepper’s face. “You hired me for this because I’m good,” she reminds Pepper, who inclines her head in acknowledgement.

“I didn’t expect you to work so fast,” Pepper admits, looking more curious than she had before, the slight slump of weary defeat lifting off her shoulders, and Maria is struck by how much more the confident posture suits her. 

“I’m a little low on other tasks at the moment, so I could give this my full attention.” Not that she would ever do less than her best, but the fact that her new apartment still feels too different from her quarters at the SHIELD facility in DC had kept her glued to her desk longer than she would have usually prefered. “Besides, I thought this might be somewhat time-sensitive.”

Pepper’s brows furrow, but not deep enough to indicate any new threats from the board against her authority. “That’s certainly true. So, what are my options?”

“The main priority is teaching you to control your powers in any and all situations.” Maria can't help but glance at the smooth, even surface of Pepper’s desk. There is no hint of charred wood now, but Maria can still vividly remember the black imprint. “There is no indication that living with Extremis has to be dangerous to you or those around you. All violent incidents involving the condition seem to have been deliberately orchestrated that way, so there’s no reason you shouldn’t be able to keep from causing any damage.”

Pepper is silent for a moment. “So, rather than actually saying I’m not a danger, you’re just saying there’s no proof that I’m a danger.” Maria inclines her head in a mix of agreement and acknowledgement. 

“Yes. And therefore our next step is to make sure there won’t be any proof in the future either.” Pepper runs a hand through her hair, an unusual nervous gesture Maria hasn’t seen from her before.

“I know I hired you to—” she breaks off, bites her lip in another uncharacteristic show of nerves and then starts again. “I know this is about making sure I can stay CEO of this company, but if— if there’s any way I’m actually a danger to my employees…” She trails off, looking more lost than Maria has ever seen her. It makes something in her chest tighten uncomfortably.

“That’s where the next step of my assessment comes into play. I came up with two options for you to learn to control your powers.” Pepper doesn’t respond, but all her attention is back on Maria, whatever worry had shadowed her features before wiped away or carefully hidden. “The first option would be for you to join a taskforce of— of former SHIELD agents that focuses on people like you. People with powers.”

Pepper raises an eyebrow. “Is a SHIELD taskforce really the best idea? With the whole—” She gestures at nothing in particular, but her meaning is obvious.

“They’re not with SHIELD anymore, of course. And I know the people involved very well. I’d trust them with my life.” That seems to convince Pepper, because she nods. Maria isn’t finished though. “However, this might not be your preference, given that their current operation is quite...covert. Joining them would interfere with you running Stark Industries.”

Pepper nods again. “Yes, that would be an issue. If there is another option…”

“There is,” Maria confirms. “The second option would be to conduct your training on a smaller scale and keep it mostly in-house.” She smiles. “We’ll have to call in some backup though.”

————— 

There aren’t many people she would pick up the phone for at the moment, Natasha thinks, taking a bite of her croissant. Steve, of course, is at the top of the list but he’s busy hunting after his ghost from the past. It’s likely going to end in tears, but Steve had said even trying was worth it and Natasha hadn’t argued, just exchanged a meaningful glance with Sam.

Next on the list is Fury, but Natasha very much doubts he’ll call her anytime soon. He’d looked forward to his ‘retirement’ even more than she had. Clint doesn’t usually call, just drops in unannounced when he’s feeling lonely and disappears when he’s tired of being around people. Being friends with him is a bit like owning a cat.

The person who’s calling her now is last on the list, but no less important for it. Natasha had offered to take Maria with her to Europe after both their lives had gone up in flames but Maria had declined. Which makes the call all the more curious.

“Changed your mind? Paris is lovely this time of year,” Natasha says instead of a greeting. It would be nice to have someone to share her vacation with. She can’t remember a time in her life where she didn’t have a mission of some sort in the back of her mind, even if it was just gathering intel on her employers to figure out if they needed to be terminated before she got too complicated for them. 

“Actually I was hoping I could change yours,” Maria replies. Natasha glances down at her croissant, her steaming cup of cappuccino, the sunshine glinting off the cobblestone in front of her. 

“You’re gonna need some pretty good arguments.” There’s a pause. Natasha knows her too well to assume it’s because she’s looking for the right words.

“Remember how you complained that you spend way too much time surrounded by men?” 

Natasha snorts. “That’s one of the reasons I’m taking a break, yes.”

“How would you like to work with a woman for a change?” Natasha grins.

“You looking for a teamup, darling?” she asks, letting her voice dip a bit lower, giving it a languid, smooth quality. It’s been a while since she’s done this just because she’d wanted to and it sends a little thrill down her spine. Maria laughs.

“Of a sort. I’m not just talking about me here.” 

Natasha straightens a bit in her seat, interest piqued. “Oh? Who’s the lucky addition?” When Maria answers, Natasha can practically hear the smirk she’s doubtlessly wearing.

“Actually, you’ve worked for her before. Care to take a guess?” 

Natasha stills, her fingers curling around the warm cup in front of her.

“You know, I’ve never liked Paris that much anyway.”

————— 

Pepper has gotten used to Maria shadowing her over the past two days. There’s something strangely reassuring about having the other woman lingering at the edges of her periphery while she goes about her business at the office. It should feel intrusive to have someone watching her every move, analysing her behavior for potential slips of control, but it doesn’t. 

Maria doesn’t make her feel judged or observed, like a lab experiment. It’s not the aloof distance of a bodyguard but neither is it the close involvement of a personal assistant. Maria doesn’t seek out her attention, but neither doesshe ignore Pepper’s glances, and sometimes she even offers an opinion.

It’s different then when Maria catches her eye on the way up to Pepper’s office on the third day. “Remember what I told you about calling in reinforcement?” she asks, as if Pepper could have forgotten the only detail of her training that Maria had disclosed to her.

“You’ve been doing a good job all by yourself so far,” Pepper says, instead of answering the mostly rhetorical question. Maria inclines her head in a way Pepper is fairly certain is supposed to be a wordless acknowledgement of praise received, which is how she usually reacts to a compliment. Pepper might have tested this theory a few times, and she likes the way the gesture makes something inside of her feel fluttery. She wonders if it’s a SHIELD thing, a military thing, or something unique to Maria. 

“I’ve only been doing reconnaissance, the real training will be done by someone who has a bit more expertise in that area.” 

Pepper raises an eyebrow at that. “More expertise with dealing with metahumans? Who could possibly—” 

Before she can finish her sentence, her gaze falls on the person sitting in her own office. She has her back to Pepper and there is a pane of thick glass between them, but Pepper would recognize that particular head of red hair anywhere. 

Without another word she takes the last couple of steps and pushes open the door. Natasha turns at the sound of it, or maybe at the movement of the air, the pressure change in the room. Pepper has no idea what she’s aware of, has no idea who she really is.

She’s just as beautiful as she’d been the last time Pepper had seen her, but now she’s back in a light blouse and expertly tailored suit pants like she’d worn the first time Pepper had met her, instead of the form-fitting bodysuit she’d put on for her actual job. 

“Ms Potts,” she says, and smiles, looking up at Pepper through her eyelashes the way Pepper had seen her do to Tony before. Now, being the focus of that look, she can’t quite blame Tony for having fallen for it. “It’s so good to see you again.”

“Is it?” It comes out harsher than Pepper had intended. “You left in a bit of a hurry if I remember correctly,” she leaves a very deliberate pause, “Ms Rushman.” 

Natasha doesn’t flinch, doesn’t give any indication that she’s in any way ashamed of her deception. Not that Pepper had really expected her to. Instead she smiles, soft and inviting and takes a step closer, holding out her hand. “Please, call me Natasha.”

“Natasha,” Pepper agrees, and takes her hand. Now that she knows the truth, it’s easy to notice that Natasha’s hands are calloused in a way that’s rather atypical for a personal assistant who doesn’t handle anything more dangerous than a computer in her everyday life. “So, what exactly is it I’m hiring you to do this time? I’m guessing you won’t be my personal assistant again.”

Natasha smiles again, just sharp enough to lose the deferential edge. “No, quite the contrary. This time I need you to follow my orders.” 

Pepper raises an eyebrow at that. “You do realize I have to run a company, right?” 

Natasha cocks her head to the side. “I thought getting your Extremis under control was top priority. But if you’d rather focus on your job…” She just lets the statement trail off instead of completing the challenge and somehow that’s even more infuriating. Even worse, Pepper can feel the tell-tale simmer of heat snaking up her spine and tries to clamp down on it.

“Fine,” she acquiesces. “What do you need me to do?”

————— 

“This is a terrible plan,” Maria sighs when Natasha sits down next to her in the main cafeteria. It’s a well-lit, large room, that somehow still manages to be cozy and comforting, a nice place to take a lunch break or enjoy a quick post-work dinner. The tables are far enough apart to create an illusion of privacy, even more so for the ones situated in corners, like the one Maria had claimed for herself.

“Oh definitely.” Natasha replies, taking in a forkful of her smoked salmon salad, looking as graceful and put-together as she had ever since she showed up in Pepper’s office this morning. She even eats differently when she’s playing this person, Maria thinks as she watches her take tiny bites of her lunch, instead of scarfing down a high-protein meal in a SHIELD cafeteria, or sharing a pizza with her and Clint, fingers covered in grease. 

Sometimes Maria can’t help but wonder which part is an act, if maybe all of them are, and where exactly that leaves the real Natasha. 

“This is going to end up with you being thrown through a wall,” Maria continues. Natasha grins, quick and sharp with just the slightest hint of teeth. 

“Very likely, yeah.” The possibility seems to thrill her and Maria is starkly reminded why she never did as much field work as Natasha.

“She’s gonna burn you to a crisp,” she tries again. Natasha shrugs, but at least she doesn’t look quite as excited at this prospect.

“Not on purpose. And I’m not that easy to break anyway.” Her eyes don’t meet Maria’s as she says it and Maria shifts in her seat. The leaked SHIELD files had revealed more things about Natasha than about most other agents combined, and even though Maria knows Natasha doesn’t regret her decision, it’s still an invasion of privacy. 

“No, but you’re a reckless idiot,” she says, startling a laugh out of Natasha.

“But you love me anyway.” 

It’s only years of training that keeps Maria from blushing. “I tolerate you,” she lies, and by Natasha’s answering grin she knows it. 

“I can live with that,” she decides, and takes another prim and proper bite of her lunch. Maria just sighs.

————— 

When Natasha had first explained that Pepper would have to follow her instructions without question, Pepper had expected to be pushed to her limits. She’d expected some extreme version of trust exercises. Jumping off buildings without a parachute, walking blindfolded through an exercise course, that sort of thing. She had expected tests of her newly acquired fighting skills, her healing factor, the scope of her heat resistance. 

It would have made a certain amount of sense. Right at the beginning Maria had pointed out that while she was perfectly capable of compiling a threat analysis and making recommendation on how to proceed, she usually didn’t handle the practical aspects of threat containment. That was usually where Natasha came in.

In truth, Pepper hadn’t really been sure what to expect. But she hadn’t expected nothing.

In the following week, Natasha manages to insert herself into every single part of Pepper’s life. She follows her throughout her day at Stark Industries, just like Maria had. Unlike Maria, however, her presence is more than noticeable. 

Natasha isn’t particularly easy to ignore anyway, but she doesn’t even try not to be a nuisance. She spends an entire afternoon lounging on the couch in view of Pepper’s desk, drinking champagne. She orders pizza, has it delivered to Pepper’s office while Pepper is on the phone with Marketing. She insists on sitting in on all of Pepper’s meetings and builds a paperclip tower, a pyramid made of pencils, and an origami swan while she’s there, instead of paying the slightest bit of attention. 

The disregard for Pepper’s work would have been manageable, but on the second day of shadowing Pepper, Natasha feigns taking notes, only so she can obnoxiously click her pen every time Pepper starts speaking. 

The annoyance doesn’t stay confined to Pepper’s duties at Stark Industries either, which becomes clear when Natasha follows Pepper to her car and slides into the seat next to her, instructing Happy to take them to a takeout place at the other side of New York, instead of driving straight home like Pepper had wanted. 

She comes up to Pepper’s apartment and makes herself at home, but declines when Pepper offers her the guest room, announcing that she prefered to make her own sleeping arrangements. She doesn’t leave, idly flipping through TV channels instead until Pepper just goes to bed. Natasha can show herself out.

Except the next morning she’s already sitting at Pepper’s breakfast counter, so it’s quite possible she’d never left the apartment. She somehow looks fresh as a daisy even though she likely hadn’t slept a wink. There’s a possibility she doesn’t need sleep, Pepper thinks as she pours herself her second cup of coffee. No-one should be that perky in the morning. 

For one entire day Natasha insists on whistling a truly horrific, off-key version of the _Star Spangled Banner_ whenever Pepper enters a room. “I’m not Captain America,” Pepper bites out after the third time it happens. Natasha just blinks at her guilelessly.

“Of course not. He has a different theme song. Wanna hear it?” 

Pepper does not, but Natasha starts whistling _Star Spangled Man With A Plan_ anyway, and it’s only the constant reminder that she’s offering to help Pepper, that Pepper signed up for this, that keeps her from melting down. 

A day later Natasha brings a parrot to the office. It’s disruptive, and loud, but at least she’s not whistling anymore so Pepper lets it go.

————— 

The entire week is torture, but the true agony begins when Natasha starts actively interfering with Pepper’s work. 

“You need to clear your afternoon,” Natasha announces completely out of the blue as Pepper is sorting through her memos for the day. She pauses, already feeling an oncoming headache.

“Why?” In the beginning she had been more courteous, more polite, but her patience is wearing thin. Natasha just hums, twirling Pepper’s Lifetime Achievement in Business award, a decorative fountain pen, between her fingers. 

“Training exercise,” is all she says, not even looking up. Pepper freezes. She forces herself to breathe out slowly, to not say something snippy like _Finally_ or _Why not earlier?_

“Alright,” she just says instead, laying her hands flat on the desk in front of her to stop herself from fidgeting. “Of course. Where are we going?” At this, Natasha finally looks up.

“Oh we’re not going anywhere,” is all she says, before returning her attention to the twirling fountain pen. Pepper tries very hard not to let her irritation show on her face. Years of dealing with Tony should have prepared her, but it’s still a struggle.

“Okay. What are we doing, then? Do I...need anything?” She hates how hesitant she sounds, but she isn’t used to this. Usually she has a plan, time to prepare, to assess. Being caught off-guard like this isn’t like her. 

“Oh, I can’t tell you that,” is all Natasha has to say. Pepper’s jaw clenches. It’s a terrible habit that she’s going to unlearn as soon as she doesn’t have to deal with Natasha anymore, but for now it’s a valued coping mechanism.

“I’ll just...clear my afternoon then,” she repeats. Natasha doesn’t even make a sound of acknowledgement. Pepper waits a moment, then picks up her phone. “I need you to reschedule with Financials. Something came up.” Usually Pepper isn’t this short with her secretary, with any of her employees, and she silently vows to find a way to make it up to her later. First things first, though. 

“So,” she says, getting up to join Natasha in her corner of the office. “What do we do now?” There’s still an undercurrent of annoyance humming below her skin, but most of it is quickly replaced with excitement. This is what she’s been waiting for, what she’s— 

“Hmm, I was thinking shopping,” Natasha muses, pulling out her phone. Heat coils somewhere in Pepper’s chest, simmering like a hot coal. 

“You made me cancel the year-end report meeting with the entire Finance department because you wanted to go shopping?” she clarifies, and now Natasha looks up, gives her a brilliant smile.

“Well isn't that the point of being CEO? Getting paid loads of money and letting other people do all the work? Might as well take advantage of it while I’m here.” Something smells like it’s on fire. An acrid smell, like burnt fabric. Pepper hastily pulls her hand away from the now blackened arm of her chair.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, I—” Pepper starts, but doesn’t get much farther than that. Natasha’s whole demeanor changes. Gone is the frivolous disinterest, the casual languidness. Instead her gaze is sharp as a knife when she inspects the burnt fabric of the chair.

“To be honest I thought there’d be more actual fire,” she muses. “It seems like your own body just heats up to a much higher degree than should be humanly possible, but it’s more of a defense mechanism than an attack. Turning intense emotions into heat and literally burning off the excess, would be my theory. What do you think?”

At first Pepper thinks Natasha is talking to her, but then she nods as if someone had already answered her question and Pepper realizes she’s wearing an earpiece. “Yeah, I thought so as well. That’s gonna make developing countermeasures a lot easier.” She looks up at Pepper, and the smile on her face looks almost apologetic now. 

“This was a test,” Pepper realizes. Her body feels strangely empty after the rush of rapidly changing emotions before, deflated and cold. “You were trying to make me lose control.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m impressed you lasted that long. And you didn’t even try to set me on fire. I kinda expected you to, after the whistling,” Natasha admits, and she’s so composed now, standing straight and still, so different from the person who’d been sprawled across Pepper’s life for the past couple of days. 

“So I was never meant to control it,” Pepper says, and it tastes bitter in her mouth. “You just wanted to show me that I’m— I’m dangerous.” It’s not the first time she's had the thought, but it feels different this time, more final. Like a verdict rather than a work in progress. There’s no heat at all in her body now, if anything she feels like someone poured a bucket of ice water over her head. “I’ll— I’ll resign, then. I’m—”

“What? No, that wasn’t—” Natasha looks incredulous. “Your control is much better than I expected.” 

Pepper just shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t— As long as there’s anything that can make me lose control—” she breaks off again, takes a deep breath.

“I think you misunderstood,” a new voice says. Maria comes out from wherever she’d been observing silently before, and it’s a relief to see her again. Pepper hadn’t realized how much she’d missed her quiet presence, how much it would have helped her keep her composure in the face of all of Natasha’s needling. “This wasn’t the training. This was still the analysis.”

“I thought you’d already done the analysis.” 

Maria shrugs. “The parts I could do, sure, but I’ve never been as good as Natasha at getting under people’s skin.” 

“It wasn’t a test,” Natasha chimes in, not even bothering to deny Maria’s statement. “Or, well, it was, but you didn’t fail. There wasn’t really a way to fail, it’s just about getting more data. So we can help you.”

“Help me?” Pepper repeats, “but I thought—” she breaks off, looking back and forth between them helplessly. Natasha and Maria exchange a glance. 

“We’re not going to leave you alone with this,” Maria says, and it hits Pepper like a blow to the chest. “We’re on your side here. We’ll help you.”

“Yeah, we’re on your team,” Natasha agrees and it’s— Pepper has no idea what to say to that. 

“I’ve never had a team before,” she gets out, without really meaning to. And it’s true. Whatever she and Tony had been, it hadn’t been a team, and for all that she’s in charge of Stark Industries, she mostly works alone.

“You’ll get used to it, trust me,” Natasha says, a soft smile on her lips. “We have a couple preliminary measures we’d like to try once you feel up to it. You know, assessing your abilities, what strengthens them, what weakens them. That sort of thing.”

“We might be able to get you some sort of inhibitor, something that reacts to your body temperature rising and cools you down if necessary, but I’m pretty sure you won’t need it for long.” Maria is looking at a pad, flipping through some documents in quick succession, but Pepper is still stuck on the enormity of this.

“Thank you,” she finally says. “I— Thank you.” 

Maria looks confused, but Natasha puts a hand on Pepper’s elbow. The touch is just meant to be comforting, but Pepper can feel it down to her bones, wants to lean into the support. “You asked us for help. We’re helping.” 

Pepper shakes her head. “I know, I just…” 

Natasha smiles at her again, crooked and real, like she can see right through Pepper.

“Not used to having help? We’ll figure it out. It’s fine.”

And for the first time since the SHIELD files were released, since that disastrous meeting with the PR department, Pepper feels like she can breathe again. For the first time, she feels like it might be.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the story :)
> 
> You can also find me on [link text now!](twitter.com/sevidri)


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